


Letting Go of the Snitch

by xMagicalMystery



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-05
Updated: 2011-11-27
Packaged: 2019-06-25 17:26:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15645483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xMagicalMystery/pseuds/xMagicalMystery
Summary: "He's seeker in a game of Quidditch and she's the snitch. It won't stop until he's caught her, but he fears he never will. He'll be prisnor to this torturous game forever." Lily/James (Originally posted on fanfiction.net on August 5, 2011)





	1. Letting Go of the Snitch

**Author's Note:**

> This was the very first fic I ever wrote (posted on FF.net in August 2011, not edited since). I'm too scared to read it now and I'm no longer a fan of the tropes I used, but I want all of my FF.net works here. You know, for the record.

"Not in a million years, Potter."

The words run through his mind, over and over like a record on repeat. In his mind, he sees Lily Evans' full, red lips spit them out venomously. Funny how something so beautiful can say something so damaging, he thinks.

He's heard her snap the words at him countless times, but the sting is still there. Each time hurts a little more than the last, because each time she's destroying a little more hope.

(And James Potter has had it)

You'd think he might lose hope, but he never does. He doesn't know why- he knows she wants him to, and that should be reason enough- but he never loses hope. Every time he hears those cruel words, spoken with that perfect mouth, in that perfect voice that rings in his mind for hours, even days afterwards- "Not in a million years, Potter,"- the hope he'd spent days building up crashes, another colour turns to grey. But then it starts building again, he paints in the colours once more. And every time his efforts are in vain.

(James Potter has had it with her destroying his false hope)

He wants to give up. He wants to be able to walk by her without wishing he could be the guy next to her. He wants to be able to walk into the great hall without his eyes immediately landing on her. He wants to play at Quidditch games and enjoy the attention without searching for her, hoping she's giving him attention too. He wants to stop being disappointed when she's not. He wants to hear her name without feeling a tug at his heartstrings. He wants to be able to see green things without thinking of those glorious eyes. He wants the dull ache that always accompanies any thought of her to go away. He wants to stop hurting.

(James Potter has had it with thinking of her)

He doesn't know how much more heartbreak he can take. He's going to run out of colours to paint in soon. He's sitting on the seventeenth step of the staircase leading to the entrance hall now. He asked her out for the first time on this very step, five years ago. They were twelve then. It's dark and empty now, but at that moment five years ago, it was crowded with a sea of students , pushing against the steady flow of students as they climbed the staircase to rush to their Charms lesson.

She was walking right ahead of him, her bag bouncing lightly against her hip, her wavy hair tied up into a high ponytail. And suddenly he's thinking she really is pretty... and she's clever and funny too. So he calls her name and utters the words that would soon become routine.

"Will you go out with me, Evans?" he asks with unconscious confidence. Every other girl would say yes to him, why shouldn't she? Sirius' eyes widen beside him, matching the expression of a few on lookers. Lily turns to look at him, curiosity and surprise dominating her features.

"Uh... n- no. S-sorry, but.. no," she stutters. Nothing like the outright mean responses she gives him now, he recalls bitterly. She'd been nervous that he asked her, he could tell. He watches, stunned, as she hurries away with her friends, who whisper furiously to her. She doesn't look at him for days. The rejection doesn't bother him, though. It was a spur of the moment thing, he's not sure why he did it.

Soon it turns into a game. He asks her because he thinks it's funny how flustered she gets. He likes annoying her- it means getting her attention, and he wants that. She doesn't pay attention to him like the other girls do, and that only makes him want it more. As he grows up, he begins appreciating how beautiful the flush that overtakes her pale cheeks is.

But mostly, it's a game of Quidditch. He's seeker, and she's the snitch. But he can't catch her, and that's what keeps him coming back.

It's more than just a game now. He's still playing Seeker to a snitch he'll never catch, but now he really hopes she'll say yes, because if she doesn't, he might break. He likes her, he really does, but she thinks he's still messing around.

(James Potter has had it with this game)

That step that started it all is cold and hard underneath him. He can't help thinking it's cold and hard just like her. She gets a little meaner every time, he thinks. She comes up with more words to say, more ways to shatter him.

He doesn't just like her, he loves her now. He's in love with her, more so than he ever thought himself capable of. He wishes he could be like the other boys, date different girls every other months and just have fun. He dates, of course, but every time he holds a girl's hand, every time he kisses someone, he automatically thinks about what it would be like if it was her, and it never lasts long.

(James Potter has had it with failed relationships)

It's earned him a reputation as a player, a bad boy, but they don't understand why. They don't understand how painful it is for him. Still, he strives under that image, because it makes him feel stronger than he is. A false image as a bad boy is better than his very real reality as a love struck train wreck, he thinks.

(James Potter has had it with being a love struck train wreck)

He wonders about her a lot. About her laugh... what if she laughed at his jokes? About her smile... what if she smiled for him? He wonders about everything. That wonder that comes with thinking of her motivates him to ask again, and of course she shouts back horrible words every time.

(James Potter has had it with wondering and horrible words)

She never stays long enough to see him crumble. Never looks him in the eye when she responds. He thinks, maybe, if she could see how much she really breaks him, how much she tortures him, she might be a little kinder. Its a weak hope, he knows it, because she hates him, but he likes hanging on to it for the same reason he keeps going back.

(James Potter has had it with Lily's cruel, ignorant responses)

He's enchanted by her. He loves the way she doesn't wear layers of makeup, how she leaves her hair up even when all the other girls spend hours making theirs look just right. He loves that she doesn't wear her skirt too short or her shirt too low- there's something intriguing about it, how he can see everything the other girls have to offer, but she keeps him wondering. He likes that she doesn't laugh at every joke he tells, or stare in awe every time he does something impressive. It makes him want to try harder, to be better. He likes that she calls him out on his mistakes. It makes him want to fix them. He loves that she says what's on her mind, how she sticks up for herself, her friends and even people she doesn't know. He loves their arguments, because it challenges and engages him in a way nothing else can. Its the only way he can get to know her better, the only way she talks to him, feeds his addiction. Everything about her fascinates him, draws him in.

(James Potter has had it with this fascination)

Even when she shreds him into little pieces, then shreds him again just when he's finished putting them back together, he wants more of her. Even when they're glaring daggers at him, he can't help but stare in awe at her emerald eyes, how they can go from humour to rage in the time between blinks. Even when its shouting ruthless words at him, he can't help thinking about what it would be like to kiss that mouth. Even when she's breaking his heart, he can't help wanting to try harder to get her's.

(James Potter has had it with being a masochist)

He's seeker in a game of Quidditch and she's the snitch. It won't stop until he's caught her, but he fears he never will. He'll be prisnor to this torturous game forever.

(James Potter has had it with this game)

She thinks it's still a game to him. She thinks he doesn't care, he just wants the satisfaction of capturing the only girl to ever say no. She thinks he just enjoys making her mad. Doesn't she realize what she does to him? She makes him stay up all night thinking about hows and whys and what ifs. She makes him lose the ability to coherent thought when she's around. She makes him wish they had never met, but at the same time, she makes him so glad they did.

(James Potter has had it with these headaches)

She doesn't realize, though, and it's frustrating. But then again, everything about her is. He hates that he can't come up with the right words around her, how his own anger and pain makes him spit out words that only fuel her's. He says things that hurt her, and he regrets them the second he says them, but he wants her to feel a little of what he feels. And that only makes her hurt him worse.

(James Potter has had it with being frustrated)

She doesn't know what every careless "Go out with me, Evans?" puts him through. She doesn't know how very not careless it is. She doesn't know how much courage he builds up, how much heart mending he does before he asks. She doesn't know he goes through this very thought process every time, after the initial pain of every rejection has died down enough to think straight. She doesn't know how much every word she says to him affects him, cuts him to the bone, becomes a new insecurity unknown to everyone else.

(James Potter has had it with rebuilding what she breaks)

James Potter has had it with Lily Evans.

He's had it with her rude words. He's had it with her unwillingness to see he's not the same obnoxious fifteen year old he once was. He's had it with her blindness to what she does. He's had it with her ignorance to what he feels. He's had it with her cruelty. He's had it with her arrogance. He's had it with her hypocrisy. He's had it with being treated like scum. He's had it with being a prisnor to her spell. He's just had it.

He doesn't have enough patience left to deal with her, up on her high horse, always thinking she's too good for him. How dare she call him arrogant and cruel, when she's the very epitome of those words?

This is where he puts down his paint and stops filling in her greys. This is where he forfeits the match and lets the snitch go. Because he doesn't have enough heart left to break and he doesn't have enough emotion left to feel.

He's thought all this before, he knows he has. But this time- this time he means it. He's had it. He's done.

So when Lily Evans chooses the very moment he makes this resolve to take a seat next to him on that stupid, cold, hard step, he doesn't even turn to look at her. He knows she's bewildered, and that only makes him angrier. Who does she think she is, expecting his attention and affections like that, when she treats him like some emotionless punching bag?

(He's had it with her expectations)

"Will you go out with me, James?" She asks after he doesn't make to fill in the silence, cutting right to the chase, not bothering with petty conversations (another thing he loves about her- but James Potter has had it with loving the things she does, too).

He very nearly crumbles and breaks, he very nearly turns and kisses those lips he's wondered about for so long. But he doesn't. Who does she think she is, breaking him into a million pieces and then asking him the very question that's caused him years of constant hurt?

"Not in a million years, Evans."

He takes vindictive pleasure in the shocked, absolutely broken expression on her face as he walks away. Part of him breaks with the heart he sees breaking in her eyes, but part of him remembers every time she didn't stick around to see his break.

Now its her turn to feel what he felt.

As he walks away, Lily Evans finally realizes everything he's prayed she would realize for years. But she's realized it a few minutes too late.

Because James Potter has had it.

Because James Potter has heard those words -"Not in a million years, Potter."- a few too many times.

Because James Potter has finally let his snitch go.


	2. The Capture of the Snitch

**Seventh Year**

The January air is sharp and cold against Lily's cheek, but it's like the summer sun in comparison to the ice in James' eyes. His muscles are stiff, his jaw set, and his eyes hard as he stares down at the redhead before him. Her hair whips around her in ways that make him want to reach out and touch it. Lily feels small, vulnerable and helpless to her mistakes under his guarded and watchful gaze.

Suddenly, she feels as if all the confidence and that spontaneous burst of courage she felt moments before- when she boldly asked to speak to him- has fallen to the ground with the snow that dances around them. James looks weary, confused- and now mildly annoyed. His stance becomes impatient- maybe nervous- and his hand shoots right for his hair, but he plays it off as scratching his neck in that way boys do. He raises an eyebrow at her, and she realizes she has yet to say anything.

Building up every ounce of that Gryffindor courage and swallowing her pride, she utters the two words she never thought she'd say to James Potter.

"I'm sorry."

Her voice is barely a whisper and he almost doesn't hear her, her words lost in the howling wind. Moments pass in silence, and she worries maybe he really  _didn't_ hear her. But then he blinks in late surprise, his eyes narrow, and his lip twitch slightly. His shoulders stiffen and she knows he doesn't trust her, even when he nods.

"Is that all, then?" he asks, gesturing behind him to the oak doors leading back inside the castle.

She almost gives up right there. His voice is cold, uninterested, and she nearly lets him walk away. She lets the rejection stab her and hurt her, but not consume her. She almost gives up right there, but she doesn't.

**Third Year**

"All right, Evans?"

Lily stifles a groan as she catches the striking black of James Potter's hair from the corner of her eye. She makes no move to slow down and makes no indication of having noticed him, but he keeps pace with her regardless. He sighs, and she almost laughs at how un-James-Potter it sounds. She turns to look at him and raises her eyebrows. He looks perfectly innocent, almost nervous, hands in his pockets. She doesn't know why she snaps at him. It's just what she does.

"What do you want, Potter?"

If her harsh tone affects him, he doesn't show it. He smiles at her. "There's a Hogsmeade trip coming up this weekend. Maybe we could go together." His smile is kind, inviting even. He tilts his head to the side, as if to say  _what do you say?_  She sighs. This is the third time this month.

"Is that all, then?"

She can't explain the guilt she feels when her words wipe the smile right off his face. His jaw tenses. His shoulders stiffen, and his eyes darken. He looks at her in silence for a moment, swallows, and nods. His cheerful tone has been replaced by a quiet, defeated monotone when he speaks next.

"Yeah. That's all."

**Seventh Year**

"No, that's not all," she says with quiet conviction, forcing herself to look him straight in the eye. His eyes are distant and contemplative, like he's remembering just what his words took her back to.

"Oh?" He fails to mask his surprise. She nods, brushes her hair from her face, and bites her lip. He watches every movement with interest, noting how carelessly delicate every action is, and he feels that familiar tug at his heartstrings that he tried so hard to quench. He focuses on her lips, full and red and inviting. The breath he lets out fogs up in the air in front of him, and he clamps his eyes shut. Lily follows his gaze, his every movement, and she's aware for the first time how much she affects him. Not for the first time, she feels that wave of guilt that threatens to win out over her mess of tangled emotions, but she reminds herself that she's trying to fix it.

She wants to keep talking, keep him there, and only now does she realize what he felt all those times he shuffled his feet the way she's doing now. She's scared and weary and uncertain, and he's just  _there_. He's there, and he's all easy confidence and beauty and heat and strength and power. Power over her, and over what happens now.

"I'm sorry," she says again, but she knows what she wants to tell him now. "I'm sorry for treating you the way I did. It… I was stupid. I guess I just never realized you meant any of it. I thought you were playing around, like when we were kids," her voice is pleading and her eyes hold his, holding all the apology she can muster. She silently begs him to understand, to forgive her, to give her a second chance.

"We're not kids anymore, Lily. You should have realized that," he says. His voice is gentle, but there's a sharp, almost scolding edge to it. He's still stiff and untrusting, but he's stepped closer to her, and she thinks his eyes are softening around the edges. Her entire body swells with hope.

**Fourth Year**

"Give him a chance, Lily."

It's Marlene McKinnon's voice, and Lily rolls her eyes as she turns to look at her best friend. The comment is completely out of the blue.

"Potter?"

"Well yeah, who else?"

Lily huffs in irritation. "Why is everyone trying to push me towards him?"

"Because everyone's smarter than you. Come on, Lil. Just say yes one time, get to know him, and then make your judgment."

"I  _do_  know him. Stupid and cocky is not really my type."

But when she turns away, she accidentally catches his eye from across the common room. He flashes her a smile- it's kind, warm and genuine. She can't help it when her lips form into a returning smile. Automatically, he runs his hand through his hair, and for whatever reason, she's not irritated by the action. She laughs and turns back to Marlene, the image of his shining eyes burning like an iron in the back of her mind.

And for a moment, she sees just what everyone else does.

**Seventh Year**

So maybe she had seen it all along. His eyes and his smile had always been a giveaway of his heart, even through his mean jokes and cruel pranks. She'd always known it, but she never let herself accept it.

"I know," she says. "I should have known. I guess I was the immature one, eh? I couldn't let go of our childhood. But I know you've grown up… and I've grown up too, James.'

James doesn't respond, but she can see him taking in her words and letting himself believe them.

"I never gave you a chance, but- and I know you have no reason to- I need you to give me a second go," she pleads.

**Fifth Year**

"Evans! Hey, Evans!"

She's just lost her best friend, her first link to the magical world. She is in no mood for James Potter and his infuriating, ever present, arrogant smirk. She ignores him, but he is persistent, as always.

"Evans, just hold on a second!" It's the impatience in his voice that makes her angry enough to turn around.

"Go away, Potter. I'm in no mood for you to throw what just happened in my face. You were right about Snape and I was wrong. I know."

James blinks in surprise. The common room has gone quiet, anticipating another battle in the ongoing Potter vs. Evans war.

"I was just going to apologize."

She doesn't know how she knows, but she knows he's telling the truth. She doesn't care.

"I don't want your apology. You're an arrogant and selfish pig, and I want nothing to do with you. Do yourself a favour and leave me alone."

Right away, she feels bad. She's taking out her anger at Severus on James and she knows it, but pride stops her from righting her wrong. In the back of her mind, she realizes this is the only time she's ever felt genuinely sorry for her behavior towards James Potter.

She watches as his eyes flare with anger and hurt and something deep and strong that she can't identify. She watches the fight in them build up… and then subside. He doesn't fight back. He doesn't promise he'll try again. He utters a single word and then he walks away. She can't explain why her heart drops to her feet as she watches his retreating figure.

"Fine."

**Seventh Year**

"I do have a reason," he whispers. He's moved closer and she can feel his presence prickling on her skin, the heat radiating off his body.

His eyes have that look again. Hurt and anger and something powerful she can't explain.

He hates her. He hates her for what she's done to him and he hates that he still loves her anyways, but he doesn't hate her enough to quench that something in his eyes. And now he's hating her less and less with each breath that fogs up in the air between them, thick with emotion and a spark of  _something_  that neither one of them can name or ignore.

**Sixth Year**

He kept his word. He did leave her alone. She doesn't know why there's a void- like losing something you never really had. Hadn't she wanted this? Hadn't she hoped for years that he would leave her alone?

_No._

She had wanted to see if he really would. It had been something subconscious, something that was there, but she didn't recognize. She'd hoped that he would keep coming back. It was a selfish thought, but that couldn't be helped. No one ever stayed, no one but James, and now he had left, too.

It's a little bit more than just a longing for someone to stay, she knows. It's something bigger. She thinks life is cruel to them both. Why is it only now that she realizes what everyone else had tried to convince her of all along? Why now, when he had given up on her?

That lazy confidence, arrogant smirk, and those eyes that spoke louder than words had to win out at some point.

How had a careful, reserved, orderly girl like her fallen in love with a boy like James Potter?

**Seventh Year**

"What reason could you possibly have?" she asks. He cracks a smile, as perfect and intriguing and inviting as ever.

"I dare you to figure it out."

The tips of his hair brush against her forehead and breathing becomes a difficult task.  _Beauty and heat and strength and power._

His eyes- close enough so she can see the specks of green and gold in them- scan her face. They take in every freckle that dots her nose, linger a little too long on her lips, and bore into her eyes. James Potter always had beautifully angry eyes when he looked at her, but they're a thousand times more beautiful with that anger gone.

She has no time to respond, no time to say she'll try, no time to breathe before his lips are on hers, soft and warm, gentle and careful. He cups her cheek, kisses her like he's waited his whole life for this moment.

His scent- mint, soap, and something sweet- overwhelms her. His hands are on her face, trailing her arms, tangling in her hair, and his lips are telling her everything he can't say. She's holding on to him, holding on like her life depends on him. She's melting in his arms, like he's the only thing that matters, and nothing has ever felt so real and right to her.

They turn heads when they walk into the Great Hall, hand in hand. Sirius, on his way out of the hall, freezes a moment before a barely there smile creeps onto his face. He reaches into his pocket as he approaches them, barely sparing Lily a glance as he takes something out of his pocket, enclosed in his fist.

Sirius is right in front of James when he finally opens his hand, and James' Golden Snitch flutters out. The two boys look at each other, as though they're having a private conversation only they can hear, sharing some sort of inside joke. James grins. He reaches out, grabs the Snitch, and pockets it.

James' low chuckle almost drowns out Sirius' words as he passes.

" _One-fifty points to Gryffindor."_


End file.
